


lightweight

by StrangerInAStrangeLand



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, getting drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 22:49:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18108098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerInAStrangeLand/pseuds/StrangerInAStrangeLand
Summary: Ironstrange Haven Weekly Prompt: "I know I never told you, but..."...In which I try something entirely new and pair Stephen and Quill together.





	lightweight

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah, this ain't ironstrange, but i've wanted to write something for quillstrange for a long time so here you go

"I know I never told you," Stephen began, pausing to take a sip from his glass. "But I'm a bit of a lightweight."

"Really, Doc?" Quill remarked, looking at the small army of shot glasses piling on the coffee table. "I couldn't tell." 

He never anticipated Stephen Strange to be the type to go to parties, nor the one to get wasted at them. The sorcerer had about two glasses of rum before he was nearly plastered on the couch. Even though he was similarly intoxicated, he had no idea how the two of them ended up on the couch together as the rest of the Avengers mingled.

"God, I haven't had alcohol in years," he chuckled, examining the oak-colored liquid in his glass. "It's weird because there are so many different types of alcohol, but they're all classified as the same thing. Wine, whiskey, tequila, you know? Sure, we categorize tea by its variety of flavors, but it's all still just called 'tea' in the end. Isn't that weird?"

"Y-Yeah...sure is weird. I'm definitely following along right now," Quill nodded, trying his best to look like he could understand his ramblings. He'd never seen the sorcerer go on and on like this before -- so casual and informal. Almost like a teenager. 

He had to admit, there was something funny about seeing high-strung Stephen Strange flung over on the side of a couch, hair tangled and flop-sided, holding a(nother) nearly empty shot glass. 

There was a brief moment of silence from Stephen right before he tiredly slumped onto Quill's shoulder. 

"...Dude, you know you could've asked me to move out of the way, right?" 

"Eh," Stephen mumbled, clinging onto his arm. "I kind of like this better."

He buried his face into Quill's arm with a tipsy giggle as Quill tried to lower him down onto a cushion without disrupting him too much. However, to his surprise, Stephen fell onto him even harder, pushing both of them down onto the couch. 

Was he blushing? God, he hoped he wasn't blushing. 

When the initial shock wore off, Quill looked at Stephen, now lying on his chest, who hardly seemed effected. Other than being hopelessly drunk by now, of course. He didn't look like he was going to budge anytime soon, and the couch felt extremely comfortable right now, so Quill just allowed it to happen. 

"I bet I can guess what your favorite drink is," Stephen whispered deliriously. 

"Don't say you think actually think I like Thor's weird beer," he replied, reflecting on the thing that got him hammered like this. 

"No, of course not! You like piña coladas, right?"

Taking in his reply, Quill smirked but said nothing.

"And getting caught in the rain?" Stephen continued. 

"Wow, how'd you know?"

"I can't recall how many times I've listened to your playlist. Never got around to saying this, but you've got exquisite taste. Maybe next time we get drunk, I can take you to the club."

Wait, was he asking him out?

"I'll think about it."

"Well, I'd need an answer soon," Stephen replied, voice growing drowsier. "My free days are so far and few in between, you know." 

Whether it was the alcohol or his messy hair or any other factor, Quill didn't know. He couldn't remember anything...besides his response.

"Sure." 

Stephen smiled in satisfaction.

"Good." 

And like that, Stephen started to doze off, still lying on Quill's chest. The Rupert Holmes song that he had been humming began to die out as he gave in to the night.

Quill followed shortly after. 

\---

Late in the night, as everyone returned to their own homes, Stephen was surprised to find himself on the Avengers' couch.

He couldn't remember anything about the party. He could infer from his splitting headache was that he had been drinking. The amount of shot glasses on the table next to them confirmed his suspicions. He hoped the Avengers wouldn't mind him crashing on their couch for the night. 

However, what he didn't understand was why he was sleeping in Peter Quill's arms. He presumed the guardian had been drunk as well, if his two limbs lazily dangling on the side of the couch were any indication. Though, he wouldn't be shocked if that was just how he normally slept. 

He sat up, trying not to wake the sleeping Starlord, and held his throbbing forehead.

He had every right to leave right now and fly back to the Sanctum. But something leered in the back of his mind that told him not to leave. It could've been the headache that would no doubt spiral into a migraine by the morning that was weighing him down. 

For some reason, however, he suspected that he just didn't mind being with Quill. Sure, he was immature at times, but he wasn't insufferable. Or was that the rum talking? 

He carefully levitated Quill's arm and leg back on the cushions. Examining his thoughts one last time, he fell back asleep on the other headrest. 

In his dreams, he saw the galaxy.


End file.
